


Lay Your Head Down, Child

by Hexiva



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Angst, Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3523424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexiva/pseuds/Hexiva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Winter Soldier goes rogue and kills several HYDRA agents, he sits in his cell awaiting the consequences of his actions. He is visited by Arnim Zola.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Your Head Down, Child

**Author's Note:**

> The title is inspired by the song "Pet" by "A Perfect Circle," which always reminds me of Zola and Bucky.

The Winter Soldier sat alone in his cell, chained to the wall and waiting.

He knew that whatever he was waiting for was not good. He had gone rogue and killed a number of valuable HYDRA agents - even, he thought, one of the higher-ups. It was, at this point, just a matter of how bad the fallout was going to be.

There was a buzzing noise as the door unlocked, and the Soldier looked up, to see a diminutive man with with round glasses. Doctor Zola. The Soldier remembered Zola, even when he didn’t remember his own name. Zola was one of the few constants in his life. Everyone else left, died, vanished into the haze of memory when he shut his eyes, but Zola was still there.

“Doctor,” he said, dully. “You here to wipe me?”

The Doctor looked down, almost guiltily. “No,” he said, softly. “I am here to take care of you.” He approached the Soldier slowly and sat down next to him. 

“Take care of me?” the Soldier said, not understanding.

The Doctor reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a syringe. “Give me your arm,” he said gently.

The Soldier froze. Fear jabbed deep into him; but he couldn’t refuse an order from Doctor Zola. Slowly, he extended his arm as far as the chains would allow. Zola took it and, without sterilizing the area as he usually would, pressed the syringe into his vein and depressed the plunger.

“Doctor,” the Soldier said, fear leaking into his voice, “Doctor, what was that?”

“Something to make you sleep,” Doctor Zola said, getting up to discard the syringe and then sitting back down next to the Soldier. “Relax, my dear. Do not be afraid. Your long war will be over soon. You can rest now.”

The Soldier swallowed. “Doctor Zola . . .” he said, his voice shaking.

Zola reached down to take the Soldier’s human hand in his. “It’s okay. Please relax, my dear. I don’t want this to be painful for you. You are one of my finest creations.”

The room seemed to grow dark before the Soldier’s eyes. His head started to feel very heavy, and he leaned against Zola. The other man was warm, and that simple human contact was more than the Soldier had had in years. He’d missed this. There had been someone else, long ago, who’d held his hand . . . but he couldn’t remember, and the Doctor was here now.

“You did well,” Zola said, softly. “Know that you will be succeeded by a line of new soldiers who will owe their strength to what I have learned from you. I am proud of you, soldier.”

He couldn’t remember anyone ever saying something like that to him. He wanted to thank the Doctor . . . but his tongue seemed clumsy and distant, and he couldn’t make the words form. Zola’s hand tightened on his. “Don’t fight it, dear,” he told the Soldier. “Let go. It’s okay. You can rest now.”

Slowly, the Soldier’s eyes slipped shut, and darkness overcame his mind.

Zola held onto his hand until it went cold, and then, slowly, moving like the old man he was, got up. He exited the cell and turned to face Baron Von Strucker, looking up at him resentfully. “It is done, Herr Baron.”


End file.
